


Pralines

by Alethia



Series: Starting to Finish [5]
Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: F/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-01
Updated: 2004-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric looked over just in time to see Calleigh walking in, head buried in a case file, oblivious to what was going on around her. He froze, knowing what this looked like, what Calleigh would assume—correctly—and he knew he had a guilty look on his face, didn’t seem to be able to control it, hated that time slowed down for this humiliation, stretching until the moment Calleigh looked up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pralines

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/66145.html).

Calleigh brought in homemade pralines for some of the lab techs as a thank you for doing some impossible work close to the speed of light. Like Eric could resist teasing her about _that_ , even if she had seen fit to ignore him for over two weeks. Or tried her best to, anyway.

“What, so you’ve resorted to bribery now?”

Calleigh smiled a sweet smile and gave Eric a pitying, if-you-only-knew-the-things-I-know look. He tried not to get too hopeful about that. It could just be Calleigh feeling sorry for him and it would be really pathetic if Eric stopped being so down on himself just because Calleigh seemed like she might start giving him the time of day again. 

“I prefer to think of it as reinforcing good behavior.”

“Ah, so if the world just does your bidding, it will be showered with candy and smiles and flowers?”

“But of course. You’d think you’d have figured this out by now.” Teasing smile made it less barbed. Eric chuckled appreciatively, unable the help the warmth at being let back in. And trust Calleigh to do it over something as inane as pralines, too.

“So, do I get one?”

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

Slow smile and that was as good a sign as any. He hadn’t gotten a comment like that in weeks and she shouldn’t leave herself so open. Eric let his eyes drop and roam a little bit, making it obvious, smile widening as he looked back up to her eyes. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, leaning closer, tone gone low, intimate. Not too far over the line for work, but enough to get to her.

Slight flush and Eric grinned again, watching as that little bit of innuendo sunk in. Trying to beat him at his own game. Ha! He was the master.

Despite her embarrassment, she smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I want _you_ …to analyze that powdery substance found at the Sheldon home and tell me if it’s cocaine or not.”

Eric laughed out loud, liking the interplay, that she wasn’t backing down from this, that she’d finally come to terms with whatever had been bothering her the past couple of weeks. “Always work with you.”

“You know, Sam really liked my pralines,” she said playing at innocent and… it occurred to him that yeah, she must have known exactly how that one would get to him, annoyed as he catalogued the slimmest thread of jealousy that he couldn’t clamp down on. Worse because it wasn’t totally irrational; Sam loved to hit on Calleigh and rub Eric’s face in it. And she apparently knew it got to him. 

It was possible he’d underestimated her.

“Yeah, I’ll bet he did,” he said darkly and the brightness of her smiled dimmed a bit, like she was just _getting_ what it meant to needle him about that stuff. If only they could quit stumbling over each other all the time, miscalculating and hitting sore spots they didn’t anticipate. If only they could do that without the mistaken jabs. That would be nice. Because even good-natured teasing about _that_ got to him sometimes, especially where Calleigh was concerned, and he was powerless to stop it. 

Damned annoying, if Eric really thought about it. Which he tried not to.

He smiled anyway, letting her off the hook, making it okay and got only a slightly apologetic look for it. “Give me your samples and I’ll take a look at ‘em.” She smiled triumphantly and swiftly handed them over, like she’d _expected_ him to cave just that easily.

“I’ll come find you when I get the results.” He started out the door, but paused, not wanting to leave it like that. He smiled in what he knew was a suitably adorable mischievous look. “One question: how thankful are you gonna be?”

She rolled her eyes, flipping her hair in that way she _must_ know was distracting. “Get going, Eric. I need those results ASAP.”

“All right, all right,” he said, hand on the door. “So demanding.”

She narrowed her eyes at that and he laughed, walking out with a friendly wave, mocking her. Still laughing as he fell right into step with Speed. Perfect.

A glance into the lab and Speed looked back at him, measuring, taking in the grin. “Needling Calleigh again?” Dry like only Speed could do and Eric laughed, nodding.

“What can I say, it’s my new favorite pastime?”

***

“Your powdery substance is cocaine,” he said without preamble, walking into the otherwise empty lab and handing over the report.

“All right! Any indication where it came from?”

He smiled triumphantly. “Oh, yeah. Only the best for Sheldon. This stuff was the gold standard: premium-grade Colombian.” 

“Ahh, so Sheldon had quite the taste, then. I guess we’re just gonna have to find his dealer.”

“Correction: you are. Me? I’m eating pralines. Now where’d you hide ‘em?”

“Hide? Why, Eric, how would you know that I hid anything?”

Sheepish grin and she hit him playfully. “You were gonna steal one, weren’t you?” Accusing, but not mad, so he supposed it was okay.

“I just looked. It wasn’t like I was actively thieving.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, laughing. “Well, then I suppose I don’t need to tell you they’re in the side cabinet, second shelf on the right.”

He grinned and went praline-hunting, coming up with a half-full platter and a triumphant grin. Eric unceremoniously dug in, biting one in half and chewing quickly. Good stuff.

“Nice,” he said, swallowing. “Great pralines, Calleigh.”

“But of course. Did you expect any different?”

“Oh, I am not going there,” he said, still chewing. They were actually really good. He wasn’t just flattering, although how to get _that_ across he wasn’t quite sure.

“Smart man,” she said with a grin.

“I see someone found the pralines,” Sam said, walking in and nodding to Eric.

“Yeah,” he said. And pretty much gave him nothing after that. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sam so much as that he didn’t like the way _women_ liked Sam. More specifically how Calleigh liked Sam. Or seemed to. Not that he could tell what with the whole inscrutable thing Calleigh had going on. 

Liked to think she had going on, most of the time. But still, when it came to other men Eric had a hard time reading her. And Sam was the worst, just because he was so _blatant_ about the whole thing. Well, okay, that race car driver had been the worst, but at least Eric hadn’t had to listen to that. Watching had been enough for him. But the race car driver wasn’t here, flirting with the woman he was…involved with, even if he didn’t know the extent of that involvement. 

It still counted and he was perfectly justified in being just a little irate about Sam and his incessant flirting.

Eric was convinced it was the accent. It was possible it was the big brown eyes. But Eric had those, too, and women weren’t falling all over him. 

Damn Chileans and their accents. They made women swoon all over them, for no discernable reason.

Sam smirked and sauntered— _sauntered_ —over, availing himself of a praline and turning a charming smile on Calleigh. “Wonderful, Calleigh,” he said, taking a bite and giving Calleigh that _look_. 

Eric tried hard not to roll his eyes and make a disgusted sound. Even more so when he saw that Calleigh was eating it up. So to speak.

Calleigh smiled and waved it away. “Oh, you know, I’m just so thankful that you guys got the trace done on those soil samples. It was a needle in a haystack, so it was the least I could do.”

“But more than others would. It is only right to thank you for the simple kindness.” Ugh! How did women not see how practiced this was?

“I appreciate that, Sam,” Calleigh replied, seeming genuinely touched.

“And I see you are even kind enough to share with your other colleagues.” Other colleagues? As opposed to who? Sam, her _special_ colleague?

“Yeah, Calleigh’s reinforcing good behavior,” Eric said with a self-deprecating grin. 

Calleigh gave him a look for that, like she _really_ didn’t like that he’d told Sam that. Uh…okay.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking at Eric curiously, but dismissed it quickly. Apparently, if you weren’t a leggy blonde you weren’t much in his eyes. “Well, I simply stopped by to say thank you again. And now I’ve got more samples to run. If you’ll excuse me.” He nodded to Eric and winked at Calleigh on his way out.

She grinned again, turning to Eric when Sam had left the room. 

“Eric,” she said, chiding, tone letting him know she wasn’t thrilled. Damn, and he’d just gotten back in, too.

“What?” What’d he do?

“You didn’t have to say that to him.”

“Say what?”

“That I was reinforcing good behavior. I didn’t want them to know that. They just thought I was being nice.”

“You were being nice.”

“Yeah, but now you’ve assigned me an ulterior motive and it’s not like he didn’t pick up on that.” She sounded disappointed and a little hurt and Eric…really didn’t know what to do about that.

“Hey, look, Calleigh, I’m sorry. I meant it as a joke.” But their earlier teasing was gone and it didn’t look like he was gonna get it back anytime soon.

“Yes, well, I’ve got evidence to process.”

Eric nodded, resigned, and turned to go.

“Eric.” He turned back, hating the brief flash of hope that elicited. God, he was pathetic.

“Put the platter back,” she reminded gently, looking at him with that disappointed look again. He flushed, kicking himself for forgetting that, and did so quickly. When he was done she was already enveloped in her work, didn’t even look up when he waited for her to acknowledge him. He sighed and left, forcing himself not to look back.

Man, he hated it when Calleigh was pissed at him. If that’s what she was. ‘Cause she was about as easy to read as a brick wall.

He stifled all the ‘writing on the wall’ jokes with considerable force. He wasn’t laughing.

***

What was the point, really? It seemed like everything kept getting messed up. Ever since the fair Calleigh had avoided being alone with him. And then today, when she finally decided not to bolt the minute they were alone, he screws up.

Man, there was poetry in that. Just his luck.

Not that he should be contemplating his love life, or lack thereof, while he was trying to process evidence. 

Not that he could seem to help himself.

The whole thing was partly his fault, he realized, but merely tossing Calleigh and him into a room was asking for trouble, what with the issues they both had. Adding Sam to the mix…that was someone being _mean_.

That wasn’t the point, though. The point was that after that one, perfect kiss nothing seemed to be going right. And he’d just stopped fucking up, both on the job and in his personal life. He didn’t need to be run through the wringer by Calleigh and Sam and Calleigh and the fact that she was denying anything happened, ignoring what was there.

Worse that it stung; it got to him that she was treating it like nothing. It certainly didn’t feel like nothing. But apparently Calleigh hadn’t noticed considering she’d been avoiding him and chatting up Sam for the past two weeks.

And he hated that it made him wonder if it was worth it, because on some level he knew it was, that Calleigh was more important to him than any other girl had ever been. That he wanted her, despite all this.

It almost made him yearn for the good old days, when he could go to the clubs and pick up the girls and not have to worry about the next day because it was always the same old story. Funny how that was easy, _that_ was predictable, and this thing with Calleigh was turning out to be what was hard.

Most guys would be jealous of his track record. Most guys weren’t him.

Hell, maybe he just wasn’t cut out for a relationship because the more he thought about it the more angry he got—with Calleigh, with Sam, with the damn vic who went and got himself killed over something so stupid as money.

He sighed and put the samples back down, knowing he needed to take a break. He was just thinking about Calleigh, he wasn’t getting anywhere. It was time for a walk. Maybe clear his head.

Eric wandered out of the lab and towards the break room. There was probably something in there to interest him, take his mind off things he didn’t want to be thinking about.

Gritted his teeth when he passed by Calleigh, taking a report from Sam and smiling at something he said.

So much for the not thinking about it. And yeah, outside would be good, where he wouldn’t be reminded of hypnotizing accents and a southern drawl.

***

Outside hadn’t helped so much. He found himself wondering what was so funny, wondering what was in the report, wondering what Calleigh was doing now. And it especially hadn’t helped that outside meant out at the mercy of the elements and considering it was Miami that meant that it was hotter than the fucking sun with the humidity serving up that extra dose of misery. 

Suited his mood, really. ‘Cause things needed to be as excruciating as possible. Eric was starting to think he liked it that way. There was no other explanation. 

Clearing his head had been a laughable idea to begin with, he got it now. Calleigh would joke around with Sam but hadn’t let him be alone with her for the past two weeks, save for work. And now, today, it was pissing him off. Yeah, she had some serious commitment issues and yeah, they worked together, but ignoring things just did _not_ make them go away. 

Eric should know.

So it was probably a bad thing that he found Valera alone in the break room, absently stirring coffee, seemingly miles away.

“Hey, Valera, you okay?” Said with _that_ smile, that one that he knew girls loved and yep. The slight flush and guilty look made an appearance, right before the knowing one set in. 

Eric knew Valera had been trying to get his attention; he’d had enough experience with that, at least. He’d felt almost bad trying to be friendly but not too friendly recently, but since this thing with Calleigh didn’t seem to be going anywhere he wondered why the hell he even bothered anymore.

He let his smile widen just that little bit more, turning on the charm, and she was smiling back, putty in his hands. Really, it was too easy. 

And how he _missed_ this, watching girls react to him, knowing how he could so easily get in, direct their affections. And yeah, it was just a little bit manipulative, but Eric had been the master back in his day, and he had no problem admitting that he kind of missed it.

Especially when Calleigh was treating him like shit and the whole mess didn’t seem worth the price he’d have to pay. Was paying. Whatever.

He walked over, still smiling, and leaned against the counter next to her, reaching over to get a cup of coffee, just a shade too close and yeah, Valera got it.

“So, what are you up to?” he asked, softly, pouring himself a cup but looking over at her every few seconds. And she’d turned her body, faced him full on now, and that was never a bad sign.

“Nothing much. Just thinking about the rest of my interminable day. I’m definitely going to need to relax tonight.” Oh, yeah, subtle like an anvil to the head.

Maybe his day was looking up. “Well—”

He was cut off by the sound of the door opening and Eric looked over just in time to see Calleigh walking in, head buried in a case file, oblivious to what was going on around her. He froze, knowing what this looked like, what Calleigh would assume—correctly—and he knew he had a guilty look on his face, didn’t seem to be able to control it, hated that time slowed down for this humiliation, stretching until the moment Calleigh looked up.

Seemed to take forever, but must only have been a few seconds for her to look up and catch sight of their positions and Calleigh _noticed_ stuff like that. His fault. Again. Didn’t even think of how it might seem until Calleigh was watching him, confusion and hurt briefly in her eyes, before disappearing behind the veneer she assumed so well. Not that he would’ve cared because the anger still thrummed through him. But now there was guilt, too, and he was angry at himself for that. Great.

Winced to see Calleigh’s look and the bright, cheery smile was just another slice. 

“Hey, guys! What are you up to?” false cheer a painful thing to hear, especially when it was Calleigh, and Eric mentally kicked himself for the mistake, realizing just what he’d been doing. 

“Valera was just telling me about her never-ending day.”

Turned back to Valera to see a spark of recognition and tight nod. Shit. Could this _possibly_ get any worse? 

Speed walked in then, stopping short and looking at the scene with a raised eyebrow that said he knew _exactly_ where this was headed.

Well, at least Eric was safe in the knowledge that there was always farther to fall.

“Yeah, and speaking of that, I’d better get back to it,” Valera said, edge to her voice that Eric knew _all_ about. Left without another word and yeah, he was going to need to go to Delgado for his evidence for a while.

Leaned back against the counter and looked at Calleigh with an apology in his eyes, friendly smile saying, no, she wasn’t going to forgive him and further, you’re an asshole Eric Delko.

Yes, yes he really was.

“I’ve got the results on the bullets from our victim, so whenever you’re ready, come find me.” With that, she was gone and man, women were good at driving the knife a little deeper. 

He idly wondered if they were taught that or it was genetic. Nature versus nurture. ‘Cause that was the worst of his problems.

Speed walked over, grabbing a cup for himself and silently pouring it. And he could _feel_ the amusement pouring off Tim, knew he wouldn’t say anything though.

“Okay, what?” Yes, he was a masochist.

And it was amazing how Speed could make you think he was laughing at you when he wasn’t even smiling. “You alienated two women you work with in the span of about two minutes. That’s pretty good…even for you.” He tipped his cup in recognition and took a sip, looking at Eric expectantly.

“Yeah, thanks for your compassion, Speed.”

“Hey, I’m always here for you.” Sarcasm thick like a thick thing and Speed could try to make him feel twelve years old, but only Calleigh could really succeed. He knew her well, though.

“Got any advice?”

“I think you’re on your own there. I learned a long time ago not to get Calleigh mad at me. Never ends well.”

Specter of Hagen in his mind and yeah, _that_ was an understatement. “Gee, thanks, buddy. Appreciate it.”

A knowing nod and he left, Eric now alone in the break room. Just his luck, really.

***

How much Eric did _not_ want to work with Calleigh after that, well, he would have a hard time coming up with a measure that large. Needless to say, it was a lot. Because Calleigh could do guilt like no one else and she did it so subtly that it was easy to miss. 

Until, of course, you realized exactly what she’d said. For all that southern propriety she could be _harsh_. 

As he’d expected, the actual work after that was—torturous. She had the bullets and they had some trace on them that looked promising, but she was all stiff and formal and little Ms. Business and it was aggravating beyond belief.

Hated to admit that he was somewhat aggravated with himself, too, for getting into the situation in the first place. Really, after so many screw ups in his time, you’d think he’d have learned. But no. He couldn’t learn his lesson. Not him. 

The fact that he knew he’d hurt Calleigh, hurt her trust in him, hurt his chances with the only person he really wanted, well, that didn’t exactly make him feel like a prince either. Hell, maybe Calleigh was right. Maybe he was still too immature.

Not that she’d ever say that outright, but Eric was good at reading between the lines and Calleigh knew how to get her point across without ever _saying_ anything. It was some secret female skill. His sisters could do it, too, and it drove him _insane_. Guys were much easier. There was something to be said for Speed’s directness, even when Eric bitched about it.

At least he knew where he stood with Speed. Kinda.

Hell, he knew where he stood with Calleigh, too, and maybe that was part of the problem. This would all be so much easier if he didn’t know exactly what all the eye-avoidance meant.

***

New days were wonderful, hopeful things. The horrible day before had ended, and Eric was hoping for a fresh start, clean slate, all those renewal metaphors that he’d learned in seventh grade English class. Even if they were hokey.

Besides, he knew Calleigh. She’d forgive him. She always forgave him. And it wasn’t like he’d actually done anything. It wasn’t even like Calleigh had _heard_ anything. She’d just walked in on an interesting tableau and had drawn all sorts of conclusions.

Eric was resolutely ignoring that they were all the right conclusions. That didn’t matter. Calleigh was forgiving and he was persuasive. That was all he needed.

The feel-goodness lasted all of five minutes at work. He was happily floating on hope, and took Valera alone in the breakroom to indicate the rightness of this path.

“Morning, Valera,” he said cheerfully, using one of his lesser charming grins, but one that still did the trick.

“Delko.”

Or he could always try again. “So was yesterday as monotonous as you thought?”

“You know, oddly enough, after our conversation, I had so much to talk about with the rest of the lab techs. I should probably thank you for that. You really are something.” That last definitely _not_ a compliment and Eric shook his head and grinned ruefully. 

Okay, it was possible the plan was flawed.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad to hear that I could help someone yesterday.”

Valera smiled, a frosty stretch of mouth and narrow eyes, before turning back to whatever she’d been reading before he walked in. Eric grabbed some coffee and left in a hurry, optimism shot to hell, but not so bad that he couldn’t recover. He was good at that.

Besides, Calleigh would be better. Valera didn’t even know him that well; he shouldn’t expect her to let him off the hook. But Calleigh, Calleigh was a friend, a friend that he’d done things with, and she would be nicer to him. 

Convincing himself of that took a little longer, but he held out for a while, right up until the moment his path intersected Calleigh’s…and then he might as well have been cast into the deepest pits of hell. 

Calleigh’d probably volunteer.

“Hey Calleigh.”

She looked up with a blank look that Eric knew all too well, a look that said more than she ever would, that he knew well. “Horatio wants us to interview the mistress again, thinks there’s something there. You coming? Or do you have more _pressing_ matters to attend to?”

Oh, boy. It looked like Calleigh wasn’t in the forgiving mood then. 

So much for his plan, then. His luck—just sucked, really. He should demand a refund from fate or something. This was getting ridiculous.

“I’ll be right there,” he replied, voice flat, eyes hard. Two could play that game and he did not need this. 

She was just as culpable as he was, she always encouraged Sam, flirted back, and she was the one who pushed Eric away, keeping him at a distance while letting Sam close and she was _surprised_ that Eric snapped? What the hell kind of game was that?

It was enough of one to get him really irate, anger feeling good, burning away the slivers of guilt that cut through his veins. 

Because either Calleigh was fucking with his mind or didn’t know what she wanted. Or maybe she did and was just afraid to get it. Any way he looked at it, it was not okay for her to treat him like this. It was completely self-centered of her not to think that all this might affect him and it was cruel of her to taunt him, if that’s what she was doing.

Yes, no—he wanted an answer.

He stalked over to the lab, ready to tell her that, only to be frozen still with an icy rage he hadn’t known in a long time. Because there was Calleigh, with Sam, again. And this guy must be the fucking funniest Chilean in the world because all Calleigh seemed to do around him was smile.

Eric clenched his fists and forced himself to turn around, walk it off. 

He couldn’t deal with her right now.

***

It probably hadn’t been a good idea to drive over to Calleigh’s place after another excruciating day, but he refused to live like this. He’d lived with guilt for so long, it had lost all its charm. If they were done, he wanted it done, even if the thought did leave a gaping hole inside him, negative space that he couldn’t seem to shake. Not that anything had even happened yet.

Because he was still sitting in the fucking car, trying to work up enough nerve to get out of it.

Thought about that scene with Sam earlier today and resolutely pushed the door open. Anger could be good sometimes and at least he wouldn’t show up looking guilty, giving her the impression that she’d _won_. 

Knocked harshly on the door, liking the way his knuckles scarped across wood, pain crawling up his arm a good focus.

“Eric.” No give there, not that he’d expected any.

“Calleigh,” he said, just as noncommittal. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Said with only the slightest edge, just to make her catch it. Not that he really thought Sam was here, but it was enough to insinuate it.

“Dessert, but I wouldn’t expect you to be overly concerned with that.” Enough of an edge to confirm that yes, she got it and wasn’t pleased with it, either. 

Good.

“You never know with you. Can I come in or should we make a spectacle of ourselves. I’m sure the neighbors would appreciate the show,” he said, pointedly looking around, playing on her innate protection of her privacy.

She jerked the door open and disappeared with flair, Eric only rolling his eyes. Shut the door and found her again, standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed. Fighting stance, his mind supplied, and he smiled bitterly, the taste of ashes in his mouth. The dim lighting played up the shadows, making the situation seem more eerie than it had to and hey, if the setting felt like cooperating, who was he to argue?

She raised an eyebrow. “So what’s so important?”

He looked at her, weighing costs and benefits, mocking the scales of justice. “We should talk.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we need to say.” Little glint of fire in her eyes, but that was probably his imagination. 

“I do. You seem to be having a little fun with me and I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop.” Voice flat, politeness giving it that added _something_ , unnamable, but damn effective.

“Having fun with you, am I? And just how did you come up with that?”

“Hmm, let’s think. Does the name Sam sound familiar?” Jaw clenched and he knew she could see it, wondered if she _got it_ , though.

She rolled her eyes. “Get to the point, Eric.”

“If you want him, fine. If you don’t want me,” and at that he saw a flash of reaction, maybe surprise, maybe regret, but he was too pissed to focus or care, “fine. But don’t play me, Calleigh. I’ve had enough of that.”

“Me play you? I’m sorry, was I not the one who walked in on your fantastic reversion to an eighteen-year-old with Valera in the break room, or was that an evil twin?”

“Well, considering you’re so good at seeing things, it’s surprising you didn’t see what was right in front of you.”

She put her hands on her hips now, tapping her fingers impatiently. “I’m waiting.”

“Because I just decide to go hit on women all the time. With no provocation. Because that’s really who I am.”

“That might hold water, if you reputation didn’t precede you.” Cold smile, icy fingers down his spine, and Calleigh was _pissed_. As if she had the right.

“And you know me better,” he said savagely, glaring with all the anger he felt.

This silent stillness overtook the room, so calm he could hear the clock ticking, and maybe he’d finally gotten something across, a measure of what he meant. At any rate, she seemed to deflate a little, point seemingly hitting home, finally getting an inkling of what he was talking about. And it was about damn time, too.

Eric shook his head, sighing. Now that he made his point…he didn’t know where to go with it. He really hadn’t expected to even get that far. Surprising she hadn’t kicked him out. Or done something worse.

But, hey, she liked honesty, might as well try that.

“Don’t you get that I only want you?” he asked, suddenly tired, only wanting to sag down onto his place on her couch, curl up with her and watch a movie, like none of this had ever happened. Go back to the way things were.

Stupid, naïve dream and this is what he got for falling for a friend.

She snorted, looking away, that look flashing in her eyes again. Definitely some kind of Calleigh-specific hurt, but a black amusement there, too, one he didn’t get to see too often and one that made him want to know all her other secrets. “Coulda fooled me.”

Anger flared again, molten, and he wasn’t gonna let that one go. “Oh, you are such a hypocrite. What I did with Valera was no different from you and Sam, Calleigh. You’re not exactly one to talk.”

“Oh, but it is. Because I’m not the one with the string of one-night stands behind me to support that assumption.”

He gritted his teeth, not liking it, but not saying anything because it was true and everybody knew it. Maybe Calleigh was onto something with her insane protection of her privacy. It was a hell of a thing to live one’s life in the eye of everyone around you.

She shook her head, laughing a little, tension kind of leaving her and replaced with something a little more clawing, more desperate.

“It’s just flirting; it’s just fun. _I’m_ not gonna take Sam home with me.” Chiding, like it was so obvious and he should know that. 

Of course. Because he was a mind reader, obviously.

“Oh, and _I_ am?” Could _feel_ the tense set to his shoulders and Calleigh was either really bad at reading him or ignoring all the signs.

“Well, I’d hope not. If you were taking Sam home then we’d _really_ be misguided.”

He refused to laugh, looking at her determinedly until she sighed and shook her head.

“Eric…”

“Don’t. I’ll admit I was wrong. I’m okay with that, I know how to accept it. Can you admit you were?”

“Wrong about _what_?”

“‘Oh, Sam liked my pralines,’” he mimicked, rolling his eyes.

“That was a joke!” she laughed, exasperation tingeing her speech. But her hand clenched white by her side and Eric didn’t miss that. 

He idly wondered if she knew she had such an obvious tell.

“Gee, did it ever occur to you that no one laughed?”

Her mirth faltered, fled, seeming to finally get that he was serious. 

“Eric, can you just tell me what you want from me? Tell me so I can give it to you so we don’t have to keep doing this?” He looked away, couldn’t stand to watch her ask him that, took in her muted living room and waited a breath.

You push through the pain, right? Coach’s broken record wasn’t for nothing, then.

“Oh, yes please. Give me what I want for _my_ sake.” God, that would be just as bad. Calleigh already tried to please the world too much. A relationship—even friendship—based on that? Would be too depressing to contemplate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means that I want to know what _you_ want. I think what I want is pretty clear.”

Surprise lit her features, mouth working for a moment, struggling to find a reply to that. She seemed more shocked that he would refer to it than when he actually said it, which was weird in a totally Calleigh kinda way. Only she would wave off the declaration, but halt at the reminder.

And he almost felt bad for making her flounder like that. Except when he remembered everything they’d said and done to each other the past few days and then his face firmed, severity seeping back in. 

“Do you even know?” Not unkind, that, but not letting her get away with anything either. And _refusing_ to allow her to wiggle out without some kind of answer. An answer from _her_ , not of Eric’s design, and if she really wasn’t interested, well, he’d handle it. Somehow.

Firm press of lips and she looked away, stress still given away by the white of her knuckles, the clench of her jaw, all those telltale signs that screamed that Calleigh was uncomfortable.

“I want some time.” Low, like being pulled unwillingly out of her, and he had to rewind in his mind, just to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Time?”

Exasperated again and she finally looked back at him, honesty sitting there, staring back, along with something only a little pleading. “Come on, Eric, you always go after what you want but you have to admit that you don’t always follow through.”

Nice to be reminded of his past failings so many times in one night. Made him ponder his masochistic tendencies, prodding at the hurt just to make it ache some more.

Had to pull his focus back to her, to the white knuckles and the muted silence, realizing she wasn’t done yet. “I need some time to get used to the idea. It’s not like we don’t have it.”

“Yeah, well maybe I know what I want and it’s not to waste time.”

“That’s understandable,” she said grudgingly, nodding to him. A compliment, what a shock. “But it’s foolish to go rushing ahead. You know that.” Couldn’t leave it at that, though.

But behind the determination he saw what he didn’t experience with her very often: fear. Just a hint, a taste, and not something he would normally notice. But he was scrutinizing her, trying to figure out her angle, and he couldn’t ignore it because fear ruled a lot of Calleigh’s life and she never showed it.

Fear of being inadequate, fear of not living up to expectations. And with the way things had ended with all his other relationships—messy and loud and painful—he could guess where that hesitation was coming from.

Hell, he wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with him.

A kind of tense silence creeped over the room, Calleigh waiting for what he’d say, Eric unwilling to give in but still at the mercy of this tiny woman in front of him. This tiny woman who was probably hurting herself and he’d say whatever just to get her to stop, to make that _look_ go away.

“Fine. If that’s what you need then I can deal.” A concession, a defeat, but if it got him what he wanted…he just hoped it was worth it.

And like that the tension was gone, Calleigh relaxing all the muscles in her body, sagging in on herself with relief, a change so abrupt he wondered if he could’ve possibly made up the entire thing. Especially when she looked at him like this was any old conversation between friends. 

_Friends_. Right. Like that was gonna happen.

“Good. Now. I have more pralines,” she said lightly, soft look in her eyes letting him know that was as much of an apology as he was likely to get.

He’d take it.

“What, you didn’t hide them?” he asked, a smile bleeding into his voice, even if he didn’t want it to be this easy to forgive her. If only he could resist, hold on to the anger, let it make him sharp. Aware.

But he couldn’t do it, not with her. Never could, really, and even if the hurt was still there it wasn’t enough to keep him from her.

“Well, it’s not like I expect nosy CSIs poking around my kitchen.”

“How short-sighted of you,” he said with a smile, taking in the graceful sway of her body as he followed her into the kitchen, finding the platter easily enough. Carefully picked one out and handed it to her, taking one for himself, sitting down and munching quietly. He rapped his knuckles on the table lightly, reminding himself how recently he’d done the same thing in a completely different way.

This was—absolutely insane. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop it.

Amazing that it could be this simple, that they could go from anger to an easy truce so quickly. Maybe a reflection of what was between them, that. Or more denial. He never could tell.

It surprised him how much he didn’t want that to be true, God, how much he _wanted_ when it came to her. Enough to get jealous over flirty Chileans and pralines. Enough to still give it ago after everything between them and he consciously relaxed his hands, not wanting to injure table or flesh.

But maybe if they _tried_ , maybe that would be enough.

“So, what was Sam saying that was so funny?” Changed the subject and it would have been better had it been neutral…but Eric really had no control over himself these days.

“You saw that? Today?”

He pointed to himself. “CSI,” he reminded, looking at her knowingly, still so beautiful, even so late and after so much turmoil, all wavy hair and obsidian brightness.

She gave him a considering look for that, before shoving it aside and rolling her eyes. “I don’t even know,” she answered ironically.

“So why were you laughing?”

She shrugged, picking out another praline and nibbling at it, not looking at him, telling him it embarrassed her and maybe that she might have been wrong.

He laughed, shaking his head, warmth coiling through him just at that.

She perked up, looking affronted, and favored him with a downright _evil_ look. “Oh, you laugh now. Just wait until you have to deal with Valera.”

“Nah, I’m giving her time to cool off. Delgado’s my girl now.”

She smiled, syrup sweet and never a good thing. “Delgado’s going to be gone until Wednesday,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Her sister’s getting married.” She paused again, for effect, taking in what must be a horrified expression. “But hey, it’s possible you won’t need to run DNA until then.”

“Yeah. Right.”

He’d curse fate—again—but he really didn’t want to be pissing her off at this point. Calleigh was being nice to him again, so things could be all that bad.

It could be true.

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


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